Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

Alex sat up straight. “I lied to Kane, told him I’d turned the map over to the Bureau. He said if that was the case, it would be in his hands soon enough. You don’t think your boss is working for him, do you?”

“Either that or someone higher in the ranks is pulling the strings,” Constance said.

“I know from experience the Illuminati has connections at all levels of government,” Stone said.

Constance sighed. “What are we going to do?”

“We no longer need the map,” Stone said. He had thoroughly examined that paper, performed chemical tests, and was satisfied there were no hidden messages to be found. “We can use this to our advantage. Kane believes this is a map of Egypt, drawn by Orion. Let’s add a few details to throw him off track.”

He grabbed an ink pen and a map of Egypt. He added a few lines, careful to match the thickness of those already on the page. Then he drew a trio of pyramids to represent those at Giza. Far to the west, he sketched an oasis and drew a star inside of it.

“If Kane takes the bait, he’ll find himself wandering the Sahara. Meanwhile, we’ll be searching for the Night Queen’s tomb.”

“We’re going to Egypt?” Trinity said.

“Alex and I are going. Moses can come if he wants.”

“No thank you.” Moses raised his big hands in a warding-off gesture. “I go to Africa, they might not let me come back.”

“Brock Stone, don’t you dare try to stop us from coming,” Trinity said. “You’ve called this dance before, and you know very well how it always ends. Either we go with you, or we go on our own.”

“We?” Alex said. “Constance is coming, too?” Constance made a huffing sound and turned up her nose at him. “Okay, fine.”

“But we don’t know where to look for the tomb of the Night Queen,” Trinity said.

“Actually, I think I’ve found something,” Alex said. “According to this book, the Night Queen built her temple at a place called Kauketos.”

“Never heard of it,” Stone said. “But we’ll find it. If Kane wants something inside that temple, it can only mean bad things for the world.”

Interlude 3

April, 1926

Six Years Ago

The Cabaret Mondego was situated in the Quartier Pigalle. Named after the sculptor Jean-Baptiste Pigalle, this section of Paris was known for its nightlife. Cabarets, performances that featured a variety of song, dance, music, recitations, and theatre acts while patrons drank and dined, were the most popular attractions, foremost being the legendary Moulin Rouge. Some of the shows were quite scandalous. At least, that was what Stone had been told.

The atmosphere inside the Mondego was raucous. Patrons cheered and clapped while a trio of women clad in feathers and not much else, danced to the popular jazz number “Sweet Georgia Brown”. Trying not to gawk, Stone found a seat and ordered his meal. He was surprised to find that even in a cabaret the cuisine was some of the finest he’d ever had. He dined on a rich crawfish bisque, salmon with fresh vegetables, and a chocolate mousse as light as air. The performances were entertaining, and none of them were as scandalous as the folks back home believed.

The hour grew late, and Stone wondered if D. Rose was ever going to show his face. Not that he knew what the fellow looked like. Perhaps he was a regular here and one of the staff could point him out. Onstage, the host was introducing the next act.

“Mademoiselles et monsieurs, our next act comes all the way from the city of Ubar in the Arabian desert.”

Stone smirked. Ubar was a legendary lost city mentioned in The Thousand and One Arabian Nights.

“Please welcome, Desert Rose!” A young woman with indigo eyes and light olive skin glided onto the stage. Her lustrous black hair was cut in a bob. She scanned the audience with a casual aloofness. She was beautiful, but definitely not of Arab descent.

It was a moment before Stone made the connection. Desert Rose… D. Rose? This could not be his contact. His gut twisted at the thought.

Rose opened her set with the upbeat “I’m Sitting on Top of the World”. She segued into “If You Knew Susie”, a humorous ditty about a woman whom the singer knew to be much wilder than anyone suspected. Stone was impressed with her wide vocal range and the richness of her voice.

Across the room, their eyes met. Rose quirked an eyebrow, flashed a tiny smile, and launched into the George and Ira Gershwin number, “Looking for a Boy”. She continued to stare at Stone as if she were singing directly to him.

“I am just a little girl,

who’s looking for a little boy,

who’s looking for a girl to love.

Won’t you find that boy?

Help me find a boy?”

Now Stone was certain. D. Rose was Desert Rose, his contact. And he was supposed to kill her. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

Rose concluded her set with the heartbreaking “Only a Rose”. Every word was like a dagger to Stone’s heart.